


Syndicate

by chizuu (orphan_account)



Category: Better Call Saul (TV), Breaking Bad
Genre: Art, Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Gustavo Fring is Gay, Illustrated Fic, Illustrations, Injury, Kidnapping, Lydia Rodarte-Quayle is a Lesbian, Nazis are horrible in any circumstance ever, Parental Trauma, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery?, Slavery, Uneasy Allies, cleaning wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/chizuu
Summary: Jesse and Lydia form an uneasy alliance when Lydia comes to see Jesse, asking urgently for help. This fanfiction is illustrated!
Comments: 27
Kudos: 28





	1. Syndicate

"I want to see him."

"Oh, are you sure, Miss Lydia? I mean, I didn't get a chance to clean him up. If I had known…"

"It's… it's fine."

"Are you _really_ sure? 'Cause, if you wanna wait, I can make him look a little nicer for you. It's just, you know, he's a little roughed up at the moment."

"Yes, Todd, I'm sure. I know what I'm getting into."

"Well, okay then. He's right this way, over in the lab."

Jesse's body suddenly feels like it's rigid, stiff and immovable, like rigor mortis setting in road kill. He hasn't seen Lydia since he was a free man, and knowing that she works with these psycho skinhead fucks hasn't exactly helped his opinion of her. Grinding his teeth, he nervously twists the fabric around his sleeve as he watches the two figures enter the lab.

"I think you'll find everything is running just fine, Miss Lydia. Jesse's been doing a great job with the cook and all, no issues or nothing." Todd is clasping his hands together, grinning a mile a minute. He looks about as happy as he did when he took Jesse out to hide a corpse in the middle of the desert. It's terribly unnerving.

"Yes, well, this is all just standard routine checking up on things. There's no need to…" Lydia trails off as she sees Jesse from across the room. She looks completely revolted by his state; that makes two of them, but it's still kind of uncomfortable. Shaking her head, she continues, _"...worry._ No reason to worry."

"Yeah, sorry if any of this is disturbing. Like I said, with Jesse and stuff." Todd speaks like he's embarrassed, a scolded child rubbing the back of his neck and smiling coyly. "He still cooks real good, I promise."

"It's… it's fine." Lydia clearly is not fine, but she's obviously trying to hold herself together. "I'm certain everything is in order, but my customers in the Czech Republic are very particular."

There's something off about what she's saying. It doesn't feel right; sure, Lydia has seemed tightly-wound since the first time he met her in that chemical storage place, but there's something in her tone that just seems, like, genuinely unnerved. It's weird, is what it is.

"Yeah, I understand. Well, is there anything I can do for you, since you're here? I gotta be a good host."

Lydia turns to Todd, running a hand through her silky dark hair.

"Todd, do you happen to have any of that chamomile tea left? I really enjoyed that last time I was here." She sounds stiff, like expressing her enjoyment is about as easy as pulling teeth. Then again, maybe that's not the hardest thing for her and therefore not the best metaphor. Jesse really can’t tell when it comes to her.

Todd, of course, gets all weirdly eager to please around Lydia. "Of course, I'd love to get some for you. I'll be right back, okay?" He shoots Jesse a chiding look, like he's telling him to be a good dog and wait for his owner to return. Beyond that, he says nothing, but he doesn't need words for Jesse to understand him.

"Thank you, Todd."

“It’s no problem at all,” he replies as he walks away.

The moment Todd leaves, it's like a switch flicks, and Lydia lets loose all of the nervous energy she's been containing.

"You. I need to talk to you, right now." She looks at Jesse pointedly, her voice suddenly stern and demanding.

"Me?" Jesse loosely gestures to himself, clearly surprised by her interest. Whenever they let other people around Jesse, nobody ever seems interested in talking to him. He doesn’t even know why Lydia would want to. "Todd said something about you stopping by to, um... like, check the quality, or something."

"Well, yes, but _no._ That's not it. I need something from you."

"Uh, okay. What do you want?" It’s not like he really has anything to give, but he’ll bite.

"I need your help."

Jesse scoffs, his mouth agape in disbelief. "Me? You want help from _me?_ You sure you got the right guy? 'Cause, last time I checked, I'm the one tied to the fuckin' ceiling. I don't know what you think you're gonna…"

Lydia interrupts before he can finish his sentence. "No, look --- I need you to listen to me right now, okay? Just listen." She takes a deep breath and pauses for a long enough amount of time to make Jesse wonder why she demanded he listen. When she speaks again, though, breaking through the hesitation, she's clearly desperate.

"They have my daughter."

This _does_ get Jesse's attention. "They do?" One can hear the genuine worry in his voice, can see it in his eyes. Yet, he steels up moments later. "Seriously?" He’s not so ready to trust Lydia yet.

In reaction to his disbelief, Lydia looks offended, almost shocked. _"Seriously,_ I wouldn't be coming here saying this to you if I _wasn't_ serious about it. Can you help me?"

"How do I not know you're totally just messing with me?" Jesse cautiously backs away a step, the dog run he's attached to creaking in a jarring, awful manner. The sound of metal on metal makes him wince. "How do I know this is not just some kinda fucked up manipulation game?"

He's been burnt before, and the similarity of his first conversation upon reuniting with Mr. White -- _Walter_ \-- is far too glaring to ignore.

That question doesn't resonate well with Lydia. "You _have_ to help me," she exclaims loud enough to startle Jesse, making him flinch. Her voice echoes through the wide-open meth lab. "A gang of _Nazis_ have my daughter. I would do anything, _anything_ to save her. Christ, I don't even know what they're doing to her right now. Do you have any idea how terrifying of a position this is?"

"How do I know this isn't just some kinda trap?" Jesse is increasingly flustered. "Trust me, kids mean more than anything to me, and your daughter never deserves to go through anything like that if you're for real. It's just… I mean, how do I know you're not just gonna go get Todd now and tell him I flipped on him?"

 _"Jesse,"_ Lydia pleads, using his name for what must be the first time, "I am completely at your mercy. I know you have no reason to trust me, but this is a life or death situation and you're the only person I can go to."

Running a hand over his grimy, scarred face, Jesse sighs. "Say I agree to this. How --- like, how are you even going to manage to pull this off?"

"I'll prove it to you." Taking a reluctant step toward Jesse, Lydia balls her trembling hands into fists, her expression sobering somewhat. "Over the next week or so, my visits are going to become more frequent. I need you to observe the behavior of everyone here, and tell me everything you know about them: their schedule, what type of weapons they use, where their weapons are stored, where their security cameras are located if you know it. Anything you know, you tell me, and I _will_ get you out of here.”

That last part widens Jesse's eyes and raises his heart rate far more than he'd like to admit. Lydia has to know he wants freedom more than anything, but getting out doesn't necessarily guarantee freedom. "Like, _out_ out? You're not gonna bring me back? How do you even… like, plan to do something like that?"

"Yes, _out_ out. I have connections to people who can get the job done quickly and efficiently. Nobody will notice you’re gone until the morning, All I need is your cooperation with this."

"Okay," Jesse rasps, but he's still not entirely convinced. "Wait, hold on a second, Lydia. I don't get why you need my help, like _me_ specifically. Why me?"

"Leverage. You are the most vital asset to our entire production. If you're with me, they won't be so likely to hurt my daughter." Lydia takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "This won't be ideal for me, because it's going to compromise Madrigal and myself as well. I'll be risking everything, but --- _no_ price is too much for her. Do you understand?"

"I get it. Kids are… they're everything." Jesse's not excited about the prospect of getting used again, especially with everything _he_ will be risking. Brock's life is at risk, and if Jesse gets caught, Todd will surely kill him. Jesse wouldn't be able to live with himself if that were to happen. "Why would I work with you, though?"

"Well, what do you want in return? I won't be able to let you go until this is completely resolved, but I'm sure I can arrange something if you have any other demands."

There isn’t a moment of hesitation in Jesse’s response. He doesn't know if he even has it in him to say something, but it's worth a shot. Taking a deep breath, he replies, "A while back, I tried to escape. I got caught, and Todd killed someone I love, my ex girlfriend. He _shot_ her right in front of me, tied me up and made it so I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Tears well in his eyes at the mere thought. Wiping them away with a dirty, sweat-stained sleeve, he continues.

"She had a son, Brock Cantillo. I need you to promise me he's safe. Todd told me that if I try to escape again, he'll…" It's hard to even finish the sentence, but Lydia doesn't need a complete sentence to understand. At the very least, it’s common ground that they share, the willingness to protect children dear to them.

"Okay." Lydia nods. "I'll make sure he's protected."

Turning around to the sound of approaching footsteps, Lydia lowers her voice to a confidential hush. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah. Deal."

Walking in with a piping hot mug in his hands, Todd reaches toward Lydia to hand her the drink. "Hey, I got your tea. Even put a lemon slice in it and that, uh, Splenda stuff you like."

Lydia makes a face at the word _Splenda_. Pretty sure Todd got that sweetener wrong, if her reaction is any indication, but she gives him a forced smile as she accepts the tea anyway. "Thanks."

"Everything look okay?" Todd asks, leaning against one of the benches.

"It's all up to code." Lydia nods, taking a reluctant sip of the tea. "If you don't mind, I'd like to check back in a couple days to confirm that it's all in working order. I understand it must sound nitpicky, but you really can’t ever be too careful about…"

"Oh, no, not at all," Todd butts in. “Nah, I’d be more than happy to have you back here anytime. Truth be told, you kinda, uh, lighten the place up a lot.” He gestures emphatically to the drab, pain-filled lab that they’re in. “It’s like you add a much needed _feminine presence,_ you know?”

Lydia tugs downward at the hem of her skirt a little, defensive and self-conscious of the way Todd is eying her. It’s abundantly clear that she’s _not_ into him, like she’d rather drink spoiled milk than so much as go on a date with the guy. Really, Jesse can’t blame her there; he’s had far more than enough of Todd’s overbearing, seedy presence in his life.

“Right,” replies Lydia through her teeth. “I’ll check back in soon.”

She finishes her tea hurriedly and hands the mug to Todd before leaving. Jesse watches as Todd caresses it like he’s just been handed the most precious thing in his life. _Ew._

* * *

**_6 AM._ **

Jesse awakens with hands gripping him like a vice. He lets out a pained groan as he shields himself to the best of his effort, which isn't easy with his chains.

"Time to get up, you lazy piece of shit. Up and at 'em."

Cringing, Jesse limply lets Jack sit him up, the back of his head hitting the concrete wall. "Okay, okay. God."

"Ain't any kinda _God_ here, dumbass. It's time for another cook."

"Can I not, like, go to the bathroom first?" Jesse groaned, feeling queasy.

"Hell no. You gotta earn that shit. Get to work."

Up the latter, Jesse ascends, and into the lab he goes.

**_1 PM._ **

Jesse's vision blurs as he stands over the collection of flasks and beakers. He's been standing for hours, can feel his knees occasionally giving in. Todd saunters up beside him and holds him steady. His touch makes Jesse's skin crawl.

"Easy, Jesse. You're looking a little faint."

"It's fine," Jesse murmurs. He wants to say _fuck off_ or _get away from me_ , but instead he just says, "Just --- don't worry about me."

"How about we take a little break, huh? I got some supplies for sandwiches. You prefer chicken or roast beef?"

Nothing quite like the illusion of choice. Jesse swallows dryly, taking a deep breath. "Uh, chicken."

"Good choice." Todd grins, happy with his compliance. He's chipper as ever as he pats Jesse on the back, walking away. "Sit tight and I'll get that ready." 

**_1:30 PM._ **

Jesse and Todd eat sandwiches together. The meat is kind of slimy, but it's food, and eating is pretty much the only part of his day that's close to enjoyable.

**_3 PM._ **

Todd takes a call from Lydia and leaves the lab. Jesse can't hear what he's saying to her, but he looks rather pleased when he returns.

"Miss Lydia will be coming by tomorrow."

"Oh," is all Jesse can say in response. "Cool." That's certainly something to prepare himself for.

**_10 PM._ **

The cook is finally over. Todd cuffs Jesse and takes him back to his cage.

**_11 PM._ **

Todd brings him a TV dinner. He sits up top while Jesse eats, swinging his legs between the bars.

"So, I'm probably gonna clean you up a little before Lydia comes over tomorrow. Don't want to scare her or anything, if you know what I mean."

Todd is an asshole, but he's unfortunately the nicest person here as long as Jesse behaves. Jesse nods tiredly. "Yeah. I get it."

**_1 AM._ **

Jesse manages to fall asleep.

**_3 AM._ **

He wakes up and listens carefully; he hears the _hum_ of machinery by the lab but no voices toward the clubhouse. Everyone must be asleep by now. Even monsters must rest.

**_5 AM._ **

Jesse wakes up from another nightmare. He doesn't manage to fall back to sleep before Todd comes to get him.

The rest of the day goes by as usual, with Jesse and Todd cooking together. Later on, around what Jesse figures must be the afternoon, Todd pills him aside to clean him off. He leaves to retrieve a clean pair of clothes and hoses Jesse down with cold water.

"I brought soap this time," Todd tells him as he turns the water off. He rubs it up, lathering his hands. "You know, for the smell. No offense."

"Uh, none… none taken. You mind if I wash myself off this time?" Jesse asks meekly, briefly making eye contact with Todd. Getting touched makes him incredibly uncomfortable, and even with the chains around his wrists, he'd way rather struggle through doing it himself.

Todd appears to be thinking about it for a moment -- if he's even capable of forming thoughts -- before shaking his head. "No, I think I'd rather do it. You can't reach things very well like that." Reaching forward, he rubs his soapy hands all over Jesse's head. The tangles in his overgrown hair snag Todd's fingers, causing Jesse to let out a pained whimper.

"Sorry," Todd says with a guilty smile before he gets back to work.

Maybe he's clean now but Jesse can't help but feel gross about it, even long after the bath is over. That's something he won't miss, if he ever does get out of here.

* * *

Lydia arrives shortly after Jesse gets his bath. She's got her hands together, fingers fidgeting nervously --- body language that Jesse is more than familiar with and even guilty of. Her anxiety is so severe that it's practically radiating off of her.

Maybe the tea excuse isn't going to work again; Todd has been chatting her up for the better half of five minutes, and in spite of her curt replies to him, he just keeps going. Fortunately, he eventually offers without any prompt.

"So, anyways," he says after rambling about how the latest cook went, "Do you want some tea while we're out here?"

"Yes, please," Lydia answers immediately. "Oh, and --- um, maybe hold the _Splenda_ this time, if you -- if you don't mind."

Todd nods his head. "Yeah, sure thing. I'll be a sec."

As soon as he leaves, the wall comes down. Lydia rushes to Jesse, getting much closer to him this time than she had before. "Jesse, I'm running out of time. I can only do this one more time before I get you out. Please, _please_ tell me you got all the information I needed."

Jesse takes a deep breath. "Okay. I don't --- I don't really know where all the cameras are. I think there's one outside the lab, and near the fence, 'cause they saw me when I…"

 _Attempted to escape._ Just thinking of that memory makes him feel like he's going to pass out. He shakes his head quickly, as if to knock the thoughts out of his head.

"Anyway, that's all I know about the cameras. The weapons, there's --- there's, _uhhh,_ I think there's a cage thing in their clubhouse. What's the word, uh… A weapons locker! Yeah." Jesse gesticulates wildly as he speaks, emphasizing what he's saying. "And the schedule, uh, they go to bed before 3 AM. I think, yo. I don't got a watch but I know it's super late. Best time to bust in here is gonna be super late, but don't go too close to morning."

"Okay, okay." Lydia is shaking something fierce, grinding her teeth and even sweating. "All right, that works. I'll… I'll arrange something. It's gonna have to be tonight. Can you be ready for this?"

"Yes," Jesse answers quickly. Looking at Lydia, he can't help but feel _bad_ for her, which is a conflicting feeling considering she's not all that good of a person. When kids are involved, though… _Shit._ Plus, seeing an upset woman automatically tugs at his heartstrings. Speaking softly, he dares to ask, "Hey, did something new happen?"

Lydia glances around the corner, paranoid, before turning back to face Jesse. "They sent me a photo of Kiira. I don't think they've touched her yet, but…" Planting her face in her palm, she chokes back a sob. "Oh, _god_ , I never should have gotten involved with these savages! What the hell was I thinking?"

"Hey, hey…" Jesse reaches forward to comfort her, to place a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs him off immediately. He sighs, continuing. "We're gonna get her out of there, okay? We'll save her before they can do anything. I swear."

"You don't _know_ that," Lydia snaps back, beginning to hyperventilate. "They could be doing _anything_ to her, and I'm not there to protect her! I _have_ to get her back, Jesse."

She's getting too loud. Normally Jesse wouldn't judge, considering how many times he's broken down in his life, but if Todd or anyone else suspects anything, they're both fucked.

"Yo, Lydia," he hisses, unintentionally harsh enough to make her jump. Jesse softens his tone after that. "Take deep breaths, okay? Real deep and slow. Uh, breathe in four seconds, hold it in seven seconds, exhale for eight." That's something his rehab counsellor had taught him for when he was having panic attacks. Of course, he always forgot it whenever he had them, but remembering now is handy enough.

Lydia does as instructed, slowing her breathing down over a period of a minute or two. Eventually, she stops crying enough for it to be noticeable, but her eyes are still red and puffy as a result. Rather efficiently, as if she's done it a thousand times before, she covers her eyes with a pair of sunglasses she'd been wearing on the collar of her blouse.

"You're right, okay? I don't know what's gonna happen," Jesse says in a very hushed tone, "but I gotta believe we can do the right thing. I'm in on this, okay? You got my cooperation. I'll be ready tonight."

Sniffling, Lydia nods. "Okay."

* * *

It's late in the night when Jesse hears stirring from above his cage. He hasn't been able to sleep at all, far too nervous about the upcoming escape. If things go wrong, he'll be putting Brock's life on the line, and he's not sure he could bear to live with himself were that to happen.

His heart is beating so fast. It's like he's on meth again with how sped up his heart rate is. Swallowing dryly, he waits until he hears footsteps approaching. It's multiple people, and the thought that it might be Jack's gang makes bile rise to the back of his throat. He forcibly swallows the sickly stuff down as the tarp overhead flutters off, revealing two figures standing above.

They shine flashlights in his face, and he lifts his hands to shield it the best he can with chained wrists.

"Are you Pinkman?" The one man asks in a gruff but unfamiliar voice. From what Jesse can see, the guy is rather bulky and significantly taller than himself.

Jesse nods. "Yeah, that's me."

"We've been instructed to remove you from the premises. I'm going to need your cooperation. Understood?"

"Definitely." Jesse pulls himself to his feet, struggling to do so with the chains. The other, smaller guy unlatches the door and the bulky dude swiftly and quietly lowers the ladder down. He drops down shortly after to help Jesse out.

"You're with Lydia, right?" Jesse asks as he climbs up the ladder as quickly as physically possible. It would be a lot easier if he weren't handcuffed, but he's not about to complain just yet. Before he answers, the large man lifts Jesse into his arms, hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes --- much to Jesse's surprise.

"Whoa," Jesse utters softly, eyes widening as the man begins to rush through the compound, his partner close by. The man holding him hushes him, putting a gloved hand over his mouth. That doesn't exactly comfort Jesse at all, considering his complete aversion to being gagged. He feels himself growing increasingly nervous as he's taken out of the compound and thrown into the back seat of a big black van. They uncuff his legs, but not his hands. The vehicle peels out, driving fast as Jesse watches the compound fade off into the darkness.

The shorter guy, the one who didn't carry Jesse, dials a phone. When the other end picks up, he begins to speak. "It's done. We've got him. Yes. Where do you want us to drop him off?"

A pause.

"...Are you sure?" He sounds incredulous. "All right. We're on our way."

Jesse hears the man hang up. "What's going on?"

"It's going to be a long ride. We're taking you to Houston."

* * *

The ride to Houston is mostly just a blur for Jesse; he sleeps through a good portion of it anyways, but just why they're going as far as Houston is beyond his understanding. He's certain that Lydia could hold him somewhere else near Albuquerque, which would easily be more convenient for the both of them. On the other hand, being far away from ABQ does make him feel a little bit safer. There's about 12 hours between Jack and his gang, which is a nice cushion at the very least.

He's still in handcuffs when they drop him off at Lydia's house. Lydia comes out to greet them, walking out to the car and telling the two men brought him over that she can handle it from here. They hand her the key to his handcuffs and she gives them a hefty sum of cash as a payment in return. Then they drive off, Jesse stands next to Lydia as he watches them go.

"Uh…" He murmurs, not even sure what to begin to say. "So, what now?"

Lydia hesitates, looking over Jesse cautiously, before she gestures toward her home. "Come inside. We'll need some time to plan out the terms of our negotiation."

Glancing down at his handcuffs, Jesse's wrists feel particularly sore. They've been rubbed raw from metal chafing and he'd _really_ like to get them off. In fact, once he steps into Lydia's house, he can't help but ask.

"Yo, why am I still wearing these?" He asks, raising his hands as the metal links jingle from his movement. "It's makin' me feel like I'm still a prisoner."

"Sorry," Lydia says, though it seems pretty disingenuous, "but it's a safety precaution."

Jesse looks a little offended. "Safety from _what?_ From me?" After all of that begging for his help, she's going to keep him chained up anyways? Shit, at least he's locked up somewhere nicer than a hole in the ground, but that doesn't really make him feel much better.

"I have no way of knowing that you won't try to escape the moment I take those off," is Lydia's counter-argument. Grimly, she adds, "Or whether or not you'll try to _kill_ me."

Jesse gawks at her, mouth agape before he speaks again. "For real? Why would I try to kill you, like, after everything that just happened? Is that what kind of person you think I am?" He's briefly reminded of their first encounter back in that warehouse, of the way Lydia automatically assumed he was an inherently predatory and untrustworthy person.

"That's just it. I don't _know_ what kind of person you are." Lydia folds her arms over her chest, looking at Jesse pointedly.

Jesse sighs. "Uh, _yeah._ You really don't." He feels absolutely pathetic. Looking over to Lydia's kitchen, he asks in a small voice, "Can I at least have some water?"

Lydia nods her head. "Oh. Um, sure. Just… just give me a second." She walks over to the cabinet and grabs a crystal clear, shiny glass. It looks much cleaner than anything he's drank out of in months. Lydia goes to the fridge, but before she pours the water, she asks in a rather awkward tone, "Do you want ice?"

"Yes. Please," Jesse stiffly replies, feeling his guts turn and churn all the while. This kind of politeness has been drilled into him by Todd and the rest, to the point where anything resembling basic human kindness will earn his thanks. He accepts the glass with two shaky hands, thanking Lydia before chugging the water like it's the first drink he's had in his life. Shit, it might as well be.

Lydia makes an almost _disturbed_ face at his lack of manners. "Sure," she replies, eyeballing the glass that was full mere seconds ago. "Help yourself to more if you want."

"Thanks," Jesse says again as he awkwardly limps toward the fridge, pressing the glass against the pedal or lever or _whatever you call the thing that you push against to turn the water on._ The water comes pouring out and within seconds, he's gulping more water down, stray droplets running down his face like a dog that just lapped up an entire bowl of water. He does this a couple other times before messily wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

Lydia's been staring this entire time.

"Why do you drink like that?" She asks rather bluntly. "Did they not give you water back there?"

"Uh, _no,_ they didn't," replies Jesse with furrowed eyebrows. "I got, like, a bottle a day if I was lucky. I had to ration that shit like it was the last water on Earth."

"Oh." Lydia goes quiet after this, and silence fills the room. She appears disconcerted, as if this is the first time she's ever considered the reality of Jesse's situation. It's likely she hasn't once imagined what it was like for him in that compound; she seems like the sort of person who's far too caught up in her own shit to realize the morbid consequences of her actions.

"Yeah," Jesse replies quietly. He doesn't want to dwell on everything he's been through, as doing so will surely lead him to worse places. "Do I get to sleep anywhere while I'm here?"

It also seems that Lydia hasn't considered _that_ either. Quiet for a moment, she hesitantly answers, "I… guess you can take the couch."

"Cool," Jesse listlessly replies. Though, when he gets a look at the couch, his attitude changes slightly; he's not sure what he was expecting, but Lydia's couch looks incredibly lofty. With a fluffy, warm-looking fur thrown over it and enough pillows to make it look like a bed, it's worlds away from the shitty, back-breaking cot that he's used to sleeping on. Plus, it's one of those couches that's like two put together.

As he's looking, his eyes fall upon a teddy bear laying at the edge of the couch, and Jesse's heart sinks. Maybe the place is filled with more luxury than anyone really needs, but the one thing Lydia's home is missing is her daughter. The situation suddenly feels much more real.

Lydia catches him staring at the stuffed bear and quickly steps over to retrieve it, protectively holding it to her chest as if she's afraid Jesse might destroy it simply by looking. "Don't… Don't worry about that," she says, even though she's obviously worried about it.

Once again, Jesse finds himself straight up feeling _bad_ for the woman who has him in chains. Maybe that's what they mean when they talk about _Stockholm Syndrome,_ or whatever. There's something about her that's just _sad,_ and it seems deeper than her current situation. It's like it's gone to her very core, and it's probably been there longer than she'd admit.

Maybe he'd say something about that, about the bear, but he's much too tired to think straight, in spite of having slept through most of the drive here. It's probably all the time spent as a _slave_ catching up to him.

"Am I allowed to take a nap?" Jesse asks tentatively, wanting nothing more than to crash onto the pillowy surface of that couch.

"I suppose so," Lydia replies, not exactly enthusiastic. "If you really need it to help come up with a plan. I need you to take this seriously when you wake up, though, okay? No messing around. Tell me you'll take it seriously, Jesse."

"I'll take it seriously," Jesse repeats her words almost verbatim, kicking his worn-down shoes off and _flopping_ down onto the couch. As he closes his eyes, he hears the click-clack of Lydia's high heels as he walks away. Soon after that, he falls asleep.


	2. Bait-and-switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Lydia looks sad, like not her typical nervousness but just genuinely heartbroken and void of any happiness. She's the farthest thing from a happy person."_
> 
> Jesse stays in Lydia's house in Houston.

It's dark outside when Jesse wakes up, and he looks out the wide open windows to look at the cityscape below. Lydia's home is elevated so high, the view outside is just gorgeous. Though, he can't help but wonder about a house with so many windows. It doesn't feel very private. Weird, how someone who does all of the fucked up shit she does could just live so out in the open.

Jesse gets up off the couch, struggling to do so for a moment because of the chains. They rattle softly as he walks through the house, noticing a light on at the other end of the hall across from him. He cautiously walks toward it, curiosity getting the better of him, and as he approaches, he hears the quiet sound of crying.

Poking his head through the doorway, he finds Lydia alone in what must be her daughter's -- Kiira's -- room. She weeps in a manner so soft and suppressed that one would suspect it to be learned, a way to cry out without drawing too much attention. In her arms is the bear Jesse saw earlier. Something about seeing her in this light changes the _drug-peddling crime lord_ into a metaphorical lost child. She looks like a little girl who's mother left her at a train station and never came back.

When Lydia notices Jesse standing there, she freezes like a deer in the headlights. Staring him down with a sort of horror and embarrassment in her eyes, it's as if she's just been caught doing something unthinkable. Jesse frowns, advertising his gaze.

"Sorry," he says quickly, walking away. As he walks back down the hall, he plans on pretending he saw nothing --- that is, until he hears Lydia's voice from the other room.

"Wait," she pleads. "Don't leave."

Jesse's movement comes to a halt as he hesitantly walks back over. "Is… is there anything I can do for you?" He asks, because it's what he's used to asking, and serving is what he's used to doing.

"Come here," Lydia sadly commands.

Jesse complies. He looks around the room as he walks further into it, noticing all of the toys and furniture around the room. It's noticeably clean and tidy, though there sweet-looking stuffed animals and dolls sitting out and neatly arranged upon furniture. Those dolls show that it's still very much a child's room. Seeing it without a kid in there is _haunting,_ he has to admit. It makes him think about how Brock is going through the opposite right now, a child without a mother.

"I can't bring myself to sleep knowing she's gone," Lydia murmurs, though she doesn't look at Jesse when she speaks. Her eyes are trained on the toy in her arms. "I never should have let them see how nervous I was about working with them."

"Is that how this happened?" Jesse asks. He still has no idea why the Nazis would take Lydia's daughter. She must've done _something_ to piss them off if they were willing to go that far.

"I may have given them the indication that I was interested in finding another source," Lydia admits.

"Why?" Jesse can't help but ask. "I mean, _I_ know why working with Nazis is a bad fucking idea, but what made you change your mind?"

Lydia narrows her eyes at Jesse's words, like she's upset that he would point out such an obvious fact. "There were a lot of factors. For one, Todd wouldn't leave me alone," she says defensively. "And yes, it isn't _morally sound_ working with them. I'm not proud of it, but I did what I had to for my daughter."

God, that sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it? It's like he's with Mr. White all over again. Jesse grimaces. Why is it that he always gets stuck with these types of people in his life?

"You worked with _Nazis_ for your daughter?" It's obvious from Jesse's tone of voice that he doesn't believe her. He's disgusted by the fact that she'd excuse her actions. "That's not what she wants."

"They work for _me_ ," Lydia snaps back at him, tearing up even more. "I made _money_ for her, so she'd never have to worry about money. So she'd never have to know what it's like to not have food on the table, to lose her mother, to grow up in a group home. I did it to _protect_ her."

"So, what? You wanted to quit while you're ahead?"

Lydia hesitates, but she nods anyways. "Yes. Essentially."

"That's the good thing to do," Jesse replies. "You know, you don't have to keep dealing with them once this is done. You could, like, change for the better. It's not like you don't got all this money."

Shaking her head glumly, Lydia disagrees. "I don't know if that will be the case after this. I might end up giving them all of my money for her, anyways. I don't know what's going to happen."

For a moment, Jesse falls silent, looking down at his bound wrists and the bits of blood that have smudged his skin. Him and Lydia, they're living in two entirely different worlds. He can't help but resent her because of everything that's happened --- and not just the slavery. The fact that she put a hit out on Mike, who was the only decent person in the whole drug trade, is a whole different kind of fucked up.

"You could up and run away once you get her back," Jesse suggests. "Start fresh, wipe the slate clean, get a whole new shot at life and be someone else. Someone safer."

Lydia looks at Jesse with a furrowed brow. "Is that what you want to do?"

Nodding, Jesse looks back down at the handcuffs, taking the chain between his fingers. He wishes he could break it, get out of here for good --- not just Lydia's house or Houston, but out of _here_ . Out into Alaska, into the wild. "Yeah," he admits. "Alaska. That's where I'd go. That's what _Mike_ suggested."

There's a note of bitterness in his tone that Lydia immediately picks up on. Hearing Mike's name shifts her expression into something quite upset.

"He was putting everything at risk by keeping his associates alive," she starts, but Jesse cuts her off.

"I don't wanna hear it."

"It wasn't even me that did it, it was your partner, and your partner _killed_ Gustavo---"

"Don't fucking call him that," Jesse bites back, his words caustic and defensive. "He's not my _partner._ He sold me out to those psychotic fucks. He poisoned a child. He told _Nazis_ where Andrea lived and they _killed_ her in front of me. Jesus, he blackmailed me into cooking with him in the first place. You think that's what a partner does?"

"What?" Lydia gasps, backing away from Jesse like his anger might kill her on contact. "No, that's not what a partner does. I didn't even know most of that, anyway!"

 _"Most_ of it," Jesse scoffs, shaking his head. "Like _that's_ real reassuring. Did you ever even wonder why I was locked up like that?"

"No! I didn't, okay? I didn't think about it, I didn't _want_ to think about it! I don't even like looking when I put hits on people. I don't want to see it. I can't handle it."

In reaction to that, Jesse just gawks at her, shaking his head in disbelief. "How do you live like that?"

"It's survival," Lydia replies, glaring back at him.

Jesse places his face into the palms of his hands, groaning. He doesn't even know what to say in response, if that fucked up way of living is her definition of survival. There's no telling if he'll get out of this alive with how difficult to understand Lydia is. She could throw him right back into that pit for all he knows, toss him in ready for Jack's gang to flay him.

"Jesse," Lydia pleads, putting her hand on his shoulder and making him flinch. "Jesse, hey." When he doesn't respond, she gets increasingly impatient. "Give me your hands."

He pulls his hands from his face, hesitating and untrusting. Yet, being so conditioned to obey, he complies against his own instincts and extends his hands to her. Lydia reaches into her pocket then, taking out a key and unlocking the cuffs with trembling hands. They hit Kiira's bed with a soft thud and she immediately lurches back as if she's afraid Jesse will choke her out the moment he's free.

But he doesn't, of course, because he's not that kind of guy.

They stay like that for a while, with Lydia anxiously anticipating something horrible and Jesse mutely staring at her in shock. Her eyes move to his raw wrists, and she reaches out to touch his hand. He flinches, but he doesn't pull away even though he feels like he should.

Her fingers trace down his hand to the wounded ring of skin, and Jesse lets out a pained hiss as she touches it. Part of him is anticipating her to dig her perfectly manicured nails into his flesh, but she doesn't.

"Does it hurt?" She asks. Jesse nods, and Lydia sighs softly. _"Savages,"_ she whispers under her breath. Pulling her hand back, she examines her nails in a neurotic manner. It's hard to wrap one's head around how she'll react. "Come with me."

Standing up, she expects Jesse to follow her, and he does of course, letting her lead him to the bathroom. She searches through the cabinet by the sink before getting out some supplies for cleaning his wounds. Grabbing a disinfectant wipe, she holds it out for Jesse to take. He accepts it and gingerly rubs it against his wounds, wincing at the way it stings.

"Why are you doing this?" Jesse can't help but to ask.

"I don't need you getting an infection under my watch," Lydia fusses. "I'm not a _monster,_ you know. Maybe we don't share the same outlook, but I'm still a human being, too."

Frowning, Jesse continues to wipe at his wrists. "I didn't say you weren't a human."

"Yeah, well, you didn't need to." Pulling some bandages out of a box, she makes a beckoning motion to Jesse. "Give me your wrists for a second."

Again, he holds out his hands to her. Lydia gets to work at wrapping them up. It surprises Jesse how gentle she actually is in doing so; she must have experience from patching up Kiira. Kids get into accidents and fall over, like, all the time. At least, Jesse did when he was young.

"Do you remember when the three of you were trying to get more methylamine?"

How could he not forget, with what happened to Drew Sharp? Jesse nods cautiously. "Uh, yeah. I remember robbing a train."

"No, before that," Lydia clarifies. "Mike was getting ready to shoot me, but you stepped in and tried to stop him. You stood up for me, even though you didn't even know me."

"Shit, I guess I did." It was mostly just because Lydia was a woman and he didn't want to see anymore bloodshed. He had no idea what she was capable of at the time.

"I haven't forgotten about that. You saved my life by standing up for me that day." Finishing up on Jesse's wrists, she pulls her hands back and puts away the items she took out. "Consider this repayment for that. If you'll just help me out one more time, you're free to go on your way to Alaska or wherever you end up."

"Thanks," Jesse replies softly. He watches as Lydia heads out to the kitchen, and follows her over kind of instinctively. 

"Are you hungry?" Lydia asks nonchalantly as she rummages through the fridge. "I'm not going to cook, but there are some leftovers in the fridge if you want something."

"You eat leftovers?" For some reason, she didn't strike him as the type to do so. She seems so fancy, above something so common.

Lydia squints at Jesse. "What, does that surprise you that much? I also drink water and even sleep sometimes, too. I bet that's just terrifying for you to find out, isn't it?"

Jesse held up his hands defensively, looking away. "Right, uh, sorry. Yeah, I'm super hungry." Half of how faint and weak he's been feeling is owed to hunger. "Thanks for offering. What, uh, what is there?"

"There's some salmon and steamed broccoli, if that catches your interest. Already cooked, just needs to be reheated."

"Oh, sure. That actually sounds… _nice_ ," Jesse replies with a nod. "Thank you."

"Well, _someone's_ got to eat it. You don't… You don't need to thank me so much, really. It's not like I'm serving you a five-star meal." Lydia sets the food into a pan and begins heating it on the stove.

Jesse averts his gaze sheepishly

"I mean, it is for me." He takes a seat at the table, playing with his fingers. "They sometimes fed me dog food."

Lydia looks disgusted to hear that unpleasant little fact. "You're kidding, right?"

"Uh, no."

As she goes back to cooking, she frowns pensively. "This is… _hopefully_ going to be better, I'm sure." It almost sounds like a joke or sarcasm, though Jesse has a hard time interpreting Lydia.

"It will be," Jesse reassures her. "So, uh… is it just you and your daughter here normally? It seems kinda empty around your house."

"The nanny comes by when I'm working," Lydia answers glumly. "Though, yes, it is just the two of us."

"What about Kiira's dad?"

Lydia doesn't seem to like that question very much. "What about him?" Shaking her head, she goes on. "He's a donor at a sperm bank who doesn't know she exists. I doubt he'd ever want to be involved."

"Oh." Jesse hadn't really pictured Lydia as the type to be married anyhow, but he figured Kiira was a child of divorce or something. Honestly, he can't really imagine Lydia being romantically involved, anyways. Too caught up in work and shit, too high-strung. "My bad, I didn't mean to assume."

"It's fine," Lydia plainly remarks. "I never looked for a husband. It just didn't seem practical." Pausing, she adds, "To be perfectly frank, men don't really appeal that much to me outside of the workforce. Even then, in the workforce, they can be so _brutish."_

Jesse should be offended, considering he's a man himself, but he really isn't. "I get it. Men can be total douches."

"You think so?" It's as if Lydia is surprised he agrees with her.

"I mean, yeah. Men make up the majority of people who have fucked me over, so I kinda understand where you're coming from, I guess." Rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, he adds, "Only lady that really hurt me was my mom. That's fuckin' pathetic, right?"

"No," Lydia replies, running a hand down her face, "It actually isn't. If it's not too _bold_ to insert myself into your story, I kind of… _well,_ I had the same issue."

"You did?" Jesse's expression softens. "You said something about group homes. Is that, like, going by personal experience?"

Nodding, Lydia sets the food onto a plate, adds in some silverware, and hands it to Jesse. For someone who had him in chains mere moments ago, she's a pretty gracious host. "My mother dropped me off… _abandoned_ me in a group home when I was a little girl. I was old enough to know that's what she did but not enough to understand it at all."

Jesse doesn't eat quite yet, as digging into food immediately after she just dropped her _trauma bomb_ doesn't seem very considerate. His face falls, though, genuinely empathetic and disheartened by the mere mental imagery of that. A child abandoned by her own mother; what's worse than being rejected and unwanted by the very person who brought you into this world?

"Jesus, Lydia, I…" He stammers, wincing. "I don't even know what to say. That's awful." Awful, but it explains a hell of a lot about her as a person. Parental rejection damages deep parts of a person. For Jesse, it was the catalyst for his addiction to hard drugs. "You didn't deserve that, no kid does."

Lydia looks _sad_ , like not her typical nervousness but just genuinely heartbroken and void of any happiness. She's the farthest thing from a happy person. "Thank you." Letting out a humorless, tired laugh, she shakes her head. "This isn't how I planned any of this. I don't… I don't know why I'm giving you this kind of information when it isn't even relevant."

"It's cool," Jesse reassures her, reluctantly beginning to eat. His stomach has been empty as the void for far too long, and putting some food in himself feels like fixing something broken. "I don't really mind. Bet that's a hard thing to talk about."

"It is," Lydia admits, and looking deeply conflicted, she continues, "I just don't know why you're being nice to me about it. If this is out of obligation, you can stop it. It's… It's certainly not necessary."

"Nah, like I said, it's cool." It's certainly not a healthy or functional dynamic they have with one another. Yet, Jesse has lost touch with knowing the difference between respect and abuse. Unfortunately, his perception is awfully skewed after Walter and Todd.

"No, it isn't," Lydia cries out loud. "Because that means I've been letting them keep someone who's a decent person as a slave! There's -- there is _nothing_ cool about that. "

Jesse shrinks back, his appetite suddenly gone. He can't even begin to think or a response to that. She's kind of right about that; it is on her, at least partially, that he was in those conditions in the first place. It was all because of _creepy Todd_ and his _obsession_ with her that Jesse was even alive in the first place. The implication that anyone _not_ decent would potentially deserve to be a slave is... _hmm._ Fucking yikes, man, but Jesse doesn't have the time to unpack that. Maybe he just interpreted Lydia's words wrong.

 _"Uh…"_ He slouches passively, staring down at the food he's lost all interest in eating. Then, he just starts shoveling the food in his mouth as if to get the task of eating out of the way much quicker. This whole situation is far too uncomfortable for him to comprehend. Lydia picks up on that quite easily.

"Jesse, I'm… I'm sorry."

Swallowing hard, Jesse shakes his head. "Let's just… _uhhh…_ let's just work on that plan now, okay? Let's get your daughter out safe."

"All right," Lydia reluctantly replies. "So, I'm thinking that since you're not there with them, they're compromised. You're the whole reason Todd is making all of that money. Without you, they're nothing, and that should mean they won't do anything to _her_."

"Right," Jesse says. "So, where do we go from there?" Rubbing at his face, he adds, "Maybe tell them that if you don't get your daughter back, you're gonna kill me."

"You want me to kill you?"

Quick to shake his head, Jesse backtracks. "No, _obviously_ not, but it's, like, a threat, right? They don't know if you're for real about it."

"I don't know. I think they'll be able to sense something's off."

"Okay. What if you, like, threaten to expose them?"

"And risk exposing myself? Oh, no. I don't see that happening, either."

Jesse just shrugs, staring down at what remains of his food. "Man, I don't know. Maybe you can dupe Todd specifically or something, be all _femme fatale_ or whatever."

Lydia squints at Jesse. "What? I'm not even remotely the _femme fatale_ type. Have you seen me?" A fair point; she's got the nervous energy of a chihuahua, but, like, a chihuahua that's capable of hiring hitmen. She shakes her head, but adds, "What do you mean by _dupe_ him?"

"I mean, the dude's obviously got some kinda weird crush on you, so maybe we gotta try to manipulate his feelings or something. Give him an old fashioned _bait-and-switch_. Make 'em think you got the goods, but then you turn it around and kick their asses real good. Be all like Saul Goodman, getting flashy and shit so that people think you're flashy."

"Hm. Well, I don't know why I'd want to appear like that man on the billboards in _Albuquerque_ of all places, but I think I understand. A _bait-and-switch._ Yes, that... _that…_ that _could_ work, though it would certainly be uncomfortable considering I have no feelings for him whatsoever, aside from _disgust._ What do you suggest?"

The thought that Lyida has no idea who Saul is, when he's been so closely involved with Mike _(and... Maybe Gus, kinda?)_ is wild to Jesse, but again, he doesn't have time to unpack that. "I don't know, maybe ask him on a date but instead of actually going on a date you just try to butter him up, right? Then when you earn his trust, you get your kid back and subtract his ass."

Lydia grimaces. "Don't say _butter him up,_ Jesse. I don't like that at all." She seems more caught up on the wording than anything else. "I suppose I'll take it into consideration, I… I _do_ think you're onto something with earning Todd's trust. It could help with putting him in a more vulnerable position."

"Vulnerable is good." Finishing the food Lydia heated up for him, Jesse takes the plate to the sink to rinse it off. "Well, it's not good for us, maybe, but it's good for him. He should be weak as shit. We gotta, like, buff up. Like one of those montages in movies where the characters get real strong, and

"You don't need to do that," Lydia tells him as he places the dish in the dishwasher. "I could've taken care of it. You're a guest."

 _Is_ he, though? Jesse just shrugs. "It's cool. I wanna clean up after myself as much as I can. Uh… thanks for the food. It was nice." It certainly hadn't tasted bad, even if he kind of crammed it down in an uncomfortable rush.

"Oh, sure. It's no problem." 

Suddenly, a _buzzing_ sound fills the room. Lydia looks at her phone, immediately apprehensive

"Who is it?" Jesse asks.

"It's Todd."

Jesse feels his stomach turn at that. "Shit, are you gonna answer it? Put him on speaker phone."

Lydia inhales shakily, answering the phone and setting it on speaker phone. "H- hello?"

"Hi there, Miss Lydia. It's real nice to hear your voice. How's it going?"

"Todd. What's going on?"

"Well, I noticed, _uh…_ I noticed Jesse is gone. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? 'Cause Jesse's real important to me and I'm not happy about losing him."

Jesse feels a wave of disgust hit him like a fucking _tsunami._ It takes a lot of energy and restraint to not tell Todd to go fuck himself. There's nobody he hates more than this man; well, aside from Mr. White, but he's not relevant right now. Thank _fuck._

"He's here with me." Lydia is grinding her teeth, shuddering, but she manages to keep some resolve in her voice. "Todd, I need my daughter back. Kiira, I need her back with me."

"I hear what you're saying, Miss Lydia, but I've got to ask, why did you take Jesse away?"

"I… I…" Just like that, all the resolve is gone. Jesse steps over to her side, puts a hand on her shoulder, giving her a look that says, _you got this._ Lydia takes a deep breath, steeling herself. "I took him because I wanted to get your attention, because I… I have feelings for you."

There's a long pause. Lydia looks like she's going to throw up. Todd speaks shortly after.

"You do? For real?"

"Y… yes, Todd. I'm… I'm _very_ interested in you."

"Oh, Miss Lydia, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I never knew you felt the same way about me."

"Yes, well…" Lydia cringes, planting her face into her palm. "With--- with that in mind, maybe you and I should meet up. I'll exchange Jesse for my daughter, and then we can… we can have a little alone time together."

Jesse's face falls and he immediately retracts his hand. "What?" he hisses.

Lydia covers the receiver on the phone and shushes him.

"I think that sounds like a good plan. How about we meet up at Loyola's in two days?"

"That works for me," Lydia responds stiffly.

"Great," Todd replies. "I'll see you then."

"Okay."

The moment Lydia hangs up, Jesse reacts.

"Yo, what the hell was _that?"_ He's furious and terrified all the same. How stupid _was_ he to trust Lydia this whole time? Fucking _ridiculous._

"Jesse, Jesse --- calm down!" Lydia raises her hands defensively. "It was a lie! I was lying! The-- It's the _bait-and-switch_ thing, remember? You said the word yourself! Words, not word. I know it's-- I know it's multiple words."

"You're caught on _wordplay_ right now, _seriously?"_ Jesse snarls, clearly not convinced. "And how do I know you won't put me back in that hole the minute you get your daughter back, huh? Was that your plan this whole time?"

"No," Lydia exclaims. "I swear, I won't do that to you! I was only saying that to earn his trust. I promise I will not give you to Todd. I swear on my life, I won't do it!"

"You're absolutely sure?" asks Jesse, taking a cautious step away from Lydia. He doesn't know what to think. The cognitive dissonance is rattling around so hard in his brain that he feels like he's up on meth again, but he's definitely sober. He wouldn't be so hungry if he weren't sober,

"Yes, I am," Lydia reassures him. "Jesse, I wouldn't have taken off those handcuffs if I wasn't certain. You'll get your freedom after this. I would not turn against you after everything we've been through. I swear. Why would I bring you to my house personally and then deceive you?"

"Okay," Jesse replies cautiously. It's not like she actually personally brought him here; she paid some dudes to bring him over. Still, she did kind of save his life, maybe. Taking a deep breath, he steels himself. "Because I'd rather _die_ than go back in that cage, you understand?"

Nodding, Lydia sighs heavily. "I understand, but you won't be doing either of those things as long as you're with me." Looking to the clock, she notes the time: _3 AM._ She shakes her head and adds glumly, "It's late. I should probably attempt to get to sleep. Go ahead and use the shower if you need it. I'm sure you didn't get much access to sanitation down there."

"Uh… Okay." That's _one_ way to be told that he stinks, but Jesse honestly could use a shower. "You got any spare razors I can use?"

"There should be some in the cabinet. I keep them stocked just in case I need to defend myself against anyone breaking into the shower."

"Cool." Jesse blinks slowly, his eyelids slightly out of sync. "Thanks. Um, I hope you, like… I hope you have a good night."

"You too, Jesse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! it's me, the writer of this fic and repainting, the lesbian who's gathering a bunch of stories where jesse gets taken in by lesbians! i was a bit uncertain about her sexuality in this fic until recently (it gets delved into more in future chapters) but yeah, she's gay and gus is gay and they were FRIENDS! 
> 
> _*note how this chapter is not illustrated. this is a clever and subtle reference to the fact that i'm too busy doing other things to illustrate it right now!_


	3. Chapter 3

Jesse would've expected to love taking a shower after all the filth he emerged from. Instead, his skin crawls as flashbacks of hard water pressure and Todd's hands snaking over his body make the shower totally suck. It's not just the past that makes his skin crawl, but the present; the fact that he just heard Todd's voice. The fact that he'll have to see him again soon.

Jesse's mind is haunted. His scars are like ghosts seared into him, inflicted by harsh and uncaring hands. Inflicted by the likes of which nobody should ever have to deal with. Todd shouldn't even exist. He should be dead instead of Andrea, instead of Drew Sharp. He should be melting in a barrel instead. No more soft, emotionless tones or dead-eyed stares, just silence, just blackness, just nothing.

Instead, Jesse is left feeling desecrated. The water runs cold eventually, and he has to wear Todd's clothes again. Disgusting. Fucking disgusting.

\---

"Jesse?"

Blue eyes snap open to gaze up at Lydia who's staring down at him like an unmoving statue. A 5'2" statue with a severe anxiety disorder.

"Uh…" Jesse rubs his eyes, squinting back at Lydia. The ground beneath him is hard and for a moment he wonders if any of this is even real, or it's just some elaborate hallucination deep in the pit. He listens for the rustle of the tarp, looks to the ceiling for any signs of bars.

Lydia doesn't get it. She just looks up as well, as if she's expecting to see a fly or something hanging from her bathroom ceiling. Instead, she just glances for a moment at some of her weird art displays in the background. Then, she looks back at Jesse.

"Jesse, is this some kind of prank? Were you just… What, were you trying to play some elaborate trick on me where you pretend to be dead on the bathroom floor?"

Reluctantly propping himself up onto his elbows, Jesse shakes his head. "No. I was… I don't even know, honestly. I guess I passed out. Jesus, my head hurts. Todd's not gonna like that, huh? Probably gonna skin me for that."

Lydia looks disturbed, bewildered. "Todd isn't here. He's not going to do anything to you because I won't let him." Quickly, she glances around the room to confirm that statement, as if she's afraid he'll appear out of thin air. Focusing on Jesse once again, she asks softly, "Did you hit your head? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Jesse responds, but it's more like a knee-jerk reaction instead of a honest statement. Deciding not to minimize himself, he reiterates. "Actually, I'm not. I'm scared. I don't wanna go through with this."

"Oh," Lydia responds softly. Taking a seat beside Jesse on the floor, she sighs sharply and clears her throat. She doesn't look like she's used to sitting on the floor, but it says something that she's willing to sit by Jesse in his moment of panic. "I have people. Um, contacts that will be there when we make the… the exchange. The exchange that isn't really going to be an exchange." Her hands fidget as she speaks, avoiding eye contact. "They'll take care of Todd. From there, they're going to take out the rest of his men."

"Take care?" Jesse asks, rubbing the back of his head. It hurts, like when he got hit on the head by Spooge's wife. Briefly, he lets his mind wander and wonder if their kid is safe. God, hopefully. His attention shifts back to Lydia. "You're gonna get him killed?"

"Have you ever heard of ricin?"

Letting out a sad laugh, Jesse nods. "I've made it. Right at home."

Lydia winces. "You've used it?"

Leaning up against the wall, Jesss shakes his freshly shaven head. "Tried to, but no. I couldn't go through with it, uh, either times. You gonna poison Todd? And you're sure it's gonna work, like air tight?"

"Yes," Lydia tells him firmly. Looking over Jesse, she adds, "The haircut suits you better. You look more like yourself, when we met."

"Thanks," he replies nervously. "It's weird to think that he could be dead soon. I like that a lot better than the, uh, other scenarios that could happen." He looks downward at the tiles along the bathroom floor. They're a noticeably elaborate pattern. A lot of the stuff in Lydia's house is rather elaborate, now that Jesse thinks of it "He shot a kid, you know. Right after that train heist."

Lydia looks disturbed to hear that fact. "He did? What… what did he do?"

Sighing, Jesse's heart feels like it's made of lead. "There was this boy, named Drew Sharp. He was biking around in the desert, catching tarantulas, just… just being a kid. He found us somehow. I really don't think he knew what was going on, in spite of what Mr. Wh… Walter said. Well, Todd saw this kid, this child, and he pulled out a gun and shot him."

Lydia's hand goes to her mouth and her hand is visibly shaking. Jesse can only imagine what's going through her head; she doesn't say a word, but she doesn't need to.

"He was just standing there waving at us, you know? Totally innocent kid, just starting out his life." Jesse's eyes fill with tears as he thinks of it, a lump forming in his throat. "After that, we buried the kid in the desert, shipped him off in a barrel like he was nothing. God, it was horrible. I could live, like, a thousand lives and never make up for doing that."

In response, Lydia cannot make eye contact. "You cleaned up after Todd?"

"With Walter and Mike. They did most of it, but there's still blood on my conscience." Tears begin to spill down his cheeks, teeth grinding almost as much as they would when he used. "I wanted to ice Todd right then and there, you know? I punched him in the face but it wasn't fucking enough. I hate killing and I still would've done it." Covering his hands with his face, Jesse draws his knees to his chest. "He had to die, Lydia. I can't go on knowing he's still around, doing what he did."

"He's going to die," Lydia tells Jesse, and now her own voice is shaking. "I won't let my daughter be a victim to that brutality. Some people… I think some people need to be killed."

Lydia is caught by surprise when Jesse takes a hold of her hand.

\---

"Do you want a snack before we leave?" Lydia asks Jesse.

He's just been sitting there on the couch, staring at all of the art he never noticed in Lydia's house. To be fair, he's probably been dissociating throughout a large portion of this endeavor. It's easy to get lost in one's mind when the trauma is all fresh. Plus, Jesse just has ADHD anyways.

"Jesse, did you hear me? I don't like repeating myself. Not that I won't for you, but I'm already not nearly as adept in socialization as you are." Lydia's panicked attitude turns Jesse back toward her.

"Oh," Jesse murmurs, turning back to Lydia. "A… a snack?" Looking at Lydia, he notices she looks rather vulnerable where she stands, clutching Kiira's stuffed animal to her chest as if she'd never forgive herself for leaving it at home. Frowning, Jesse replies, "I mean, you don't have to do anything for me."

"No, I…" Lydia falters, looking at the stuffed animal before glancing back in Jesse's general direction. Funny enough, neither of them are making eye contact right now; it's kind of what Jesse prefers. Taking a deep breath, Lydia continues, "I want to. I want to do something nice for you. Not in a fake way like with Todd. I just want to --- help. Do you… um, what do you like?"

Jesse scratches at the back of his neck, hesitating for a moment. "Uh, I'll eat anything."

"I need something more specific than that, Jesse. Work with me, please."

Running the bridge of his nose, Jesse hesitates. "Uh, a hot dog? Grilled cheese? Some Funyuns?"

Lydia hesitates, making an awkward face. "I don't have any of those things. Most of the things I have are vegetarian. I don't even really cook on my own, but Delores hasn't been around on account of the situation. Do you want some grapes?"

"Hell yeah, I'll have some grapes." Standing up, Jesse meets Lydia in the kitchen.

Making a brief glance at the doll in her hands, Lydia sets it down upon the table, right by an art display of some fake grapes. "Let me just… um, put Miss Fluffy Tail down. She has to stay clean for Kiira."

"The stuffed rabbit?" Jesse asks, curiously glancing at the toy. "It… um, she's cute."

"She's one of Kiira's favorites. I'm bringing her when we leave." Lydia's already rinsing off a colander holding a bunch of grapes in the sink. Once she's done rinsing them, she sets them down upon the counter before staring pointedly at them. Deciding they apparently weren't clean enough, she rinses them off once again, this time more thoroughly, before putting them in a glass bowl that looks like another art display. It's rainbow, brilliantly over-saturated and resembles a few other things sitting around in the kitchen.

"Is this enough for you?" Lydia asks, holding the bowl containing at least half of the grapes from the original package. "I hope it's okay that they're the green ones."

"That's perfect," Jesse replies, smiling slightly as he takes a seat at the table. "For what it's worth, I don't really, uh… I don't know how to cook that much myself. I usually just bought stuff for myself whenever I got hungry."

"Todd let you do that?"

Jesse's heart feels like it's going to drop out of his ass at that question. "Uh, no. I meant before… that. You know, back when I was a person who had rights."

"You've always been a person who has rights," Lydia muses as she sits down across from Jesse with the grapes, pushing the bowl toward him. "You just… you had your rights violated. You were put into a situation where you were scared, and you did what you knew to do, right?"

"I guess so," Jesse replies, taking a grape and eating it. It's pretty damn sour, but Jesse likes sour. He'd prefer thinking about grapes right now, so he deliberately changes the subject. "These grapes are good."

"I'm glad you like them," Lydia tells him, sitting rather stiffly as she eyes Jesse, watching him eat.

"You wanna film this for the discovery channel or something?" Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow and looking at Lydia cautiously. He doesn't like being looked at when he eats. Reminds him of… too much.

"What? No. I just…" Lydia doesn't finish her sentence, but she does look habout for grapes. She's surprised when Jesse pushes the bowl into the middle of the table, with equal space between them. "You're sharing? With me? Why?"

"Uh, you got the grapes out and rinsed 'em, and probably bought them, so… I mean, why wouldn't I?"

Lydia smiles, but it's an odd-looking smile, like she's embarrassed of expressing herself. "Oh, well, thank you. I've never eaten grapes with another adult before. This is nice." She takes a grape and eats it as well, but Jesse avoids looking at her when she eats, just out of politeness.

Plus, again, eye contact with her feels weird.

"I mean, putting it that way…" Jesse pauses, raising his eyebrows. "I've probably had grapes with my aunt Ginny. But, like, I was a teenager. Most of my friends wouldn't eat fruit with me. They more so wanted my meth." He eats another grape for emphasis.

"Did people only like you for your meth?"

Jesse has to take a moment to consider it. "I don't think so, but they weren't as loaded as I was, financially speaking. I mean, I had millions to my name and I didn't even want it in the end."

Lydia's been chewing on the same grape for the better half of a minute. It must be totally eviscerated by now. She swallows it before speaking. "You didn't want it? I mean, how many millions are we talking?"

"Less than Walt had. I don't know, I didn't exactly count it, but it was a lot. No amount of money will undo all the hurt that I did, that Walter did." Jesse despondently eats another grape. "Anyways, yeah, meth users don't tend to eat very healthy. I always tried to balance it out by having, like, some orange juice on comedowns. The citric acid helps wash the speed out of your system."

Lydia is quiet and takes a pause from her snack. "How far does your sobriety extend? I have, um… I have a medication for my panic attacks I'm willing to share."

Jesse eyeballs her cautiously. "A non-medicated one?"

Lydia looks cautious when she answers, "It's a benzodiazepine."

"I'll pass. But, uh, thanks." Jesse eats more grapes, a couple at a time. "I'd get hooked, so I shouldn't. I'd probably like it too much."

"Oh. Sorry. I… I hadn't considered. I know my psychiatrist would not be happy to know I've offered to share with you, so please don't pass this onto anyone that I even said anything." Lydia's fidgeting with her hands again.

"I'll probably never meet your psychiatrist in Texas, so no problem," Jesse murmurs. "It's cool. I try to stay away from downers anyways, and I did when I was using, too." After Jane, he'd honestly rather get struck by lightning than take an opioid again.

"That's understandable," Lydia replies, picking up Miss Fluffy Tail and holding the plush on her lap. "Well, anyhow, thank you for sharing a snack with me. It terrifies me to think that I might never do so with my daughter again."

"You're gonna have tons of future snacks with her," Jesse tells Lydia. "I know you will."

\---

It's a long ride back to Albuquerque. Going back there feels like heading straight back to Hell. Jesse spends most of the ride either verging on panic attacks or mentally checked out with his gaze out the window. He feels sick, unreal and drained of his life.

"What happens if this doesn't work?" Jesse asks Lydia about halfway through the ride. "I know you said it will. I just worry." His voice is far-off, distant; he must be dissociating.

"I understand. I worry, too. What a surprise, right?" Lydia laughs humorlessly. "We'll get him. He'll never hurt another person again once this is over." Looking over at Jesse, she grows very quiet. It's hard to predict what she'll say until she says it. "He won't hurt you again."

Some kind of emotion fills Jesse's heart. He's not really sure what it is, but it's different from fear and it feels better than fear, and that's all he can ask. The rest of the ride, he feels less unstable, if only just a little.

When they finally arrive, it's late at night. After arranging a stay at a too-fancy-looking safe house, Lydia hands Jess something, small in a neat little plastic bag. It's a cell phone, a small flip phone to be exact.

"Uh, what's this for? Why are you giving me a cell?" He looks at her, incredulous and cautious. Jesse has seen overly-wrapped baggies like this before. It's been wrapped smooth, like it could be easy to insert into a tiny crevice or a body.

"It's just for emergencies. Keep it on your body just in case." Lydia takes a deep, shaky breath. "I know it hopefully won't be necessary, but… it's made to be water-proof, if needed."

Jesse cringes. "You want me to swallow it, don't you? If that shit bursts in my stomach acid, I can't…"

"What? No! Don't say something like that. I don't want to hear it," Lydia cries out with disgust. Suddenly, realizing her own volume, she lowers her voice to a whisper. "Put it in your pocket or in a sink, maybe. A place they wouldn't find it."

"Yeah, my cage kinda lacked a sink, Lydia," Jesse replies with a groan. "I don't know where else I'd put it."

"You won't go back in the cage," Lydia reiterates. "But, if… If you do, then you'll need to contact me. My number is saved so you can dial it instantly."

"Cool. Nice. Uh, I'll keep it in my pocket." Not in his ass. Not in his ass, he swears to god. Jesse is not gonna have to deal with Jack's gang finding a phone smuggled up his ass. Not once in his life.

"Good," replies Lydia briskly. The safehouse is a heavily guarded place outside, but inside, it's just the two of them together. It's quiet and clean, and decorated like a small vacation home with a king-sized bed and a pullout couch.

That'll probably be Jesse's bed, if he's guessing.

Jesse's always felt weird in complete silence. He sits on the couch, drumming the beat to Fallacies as he bites the inside of his cheek. Fallacies. Fallacies. One for you and you for…. uh, shit, how'd it go again?

"While you play the, um, couch bongos, I want to run something by you," Lydia says, briskly taking a seat next to Jesse on the side opposite to him. The phrase couch bongos admittedly makes Jesse laugh like a basket case, and Lydia wrinkles her nose at him. "I'm serious, Jesse. I have nicer clothes for you."

That makes Jesse freeze in his tracks, cautiously eying the woman sitting nearest to him --- the same woman who shrieked in revolt when she first saw him in the compound lab however long ago. Jesse frowns. "Wait, seriously?"

"Gus… um, Gustavo was 5'8" and he left some suits by my place a while ago. Just for business related visits in case anything got messy."

Jesse raises his brows. "What kinda messy we talkin', Lydia?"

"Not sex messy, if that's where your mind is going," Lydia quickly adds.

Wincing, Jesse shakes his head. "It wasn't, but thanks for the visual I didn't need."

"Well, Gus wasn't attracted to women anyways, so it worked out fine," Lydia digresses. "Anyhow, he didn't end up randomly getting poisoned by those men working in the Cartel, so he never got his suits back. They're maybe a little big for you. He was kind of muscular under the suits, but I think they'll fit you. Might look a little better than…"

Lydia eyes up Jesse's tattered clothes, pausing.

"Yeah," Jesse rasps. "I get it."

Lydia smiles, tight-lipped. It's like she's trying to seem relaxed and friendly, but she has no idea how to do that around Jesse. "So, do you want to try something on now? Maybe in the morning. He always kept his suits immaculate."

"Morning sounds good," Jesse tiredly mumbles.

Another bout of silence passes before Lydia, sounding reluctant, asks, "Do you want to share the bed? There's room so we won't necessarily touch one another. Might be, um, like more safety in numbers and what have you."

"Uh, sure. I'll probably just conk again. You won't even notice I'm there. I'll sleep at the foot of the bed or something."

Lydia grimaces, horrified at his proposal. "You're not a dog. Please just sleep like a person. It's really okay. You can take whichever side you prefer."

Jesse smiles weakly, still feeling awkward. "I'll take the right side, I guess. I like right sides. I think that'd be my left, though."

"That's fine," Lydia tells him. "It's a big bed and I'm not nearly as… towering as you."

Jesse snorts. "You're joking, right? I'm only 5'7" without a hat."

"You're tall to me," Lydia murmurs. "I'll talk to you in the morning, all right? Get some shuteye. We'll kill Todd together, as friends."

Friends? Is this what Lydia considers friendship? Jesse blinks, nodding silently as he passes out in bed, his face practically sinking into the soft pillows.

\--

Jesse awakens to a sudden jerking moment in the bed. At first, he's positive it's his own body, but then he notices it's Lydia actually moving around. In his state of exhaustion, Jesse is delirious enough to think she may be coming to kill him, but she's just sleeping.

"Don't touch me," she murmurs, tensing.

"I wasn't gonna," Jesse replies, but it doesn't appear she's actually talking to him at all. Some bigger monster lurks in her psyche.

Lydia tenses again, and suddenly jerks awake; it's like when one falls asleep and feels like they're falling only to awaken. Maybe it's an anxiety or PTSD thing, Jesse's not entirely certain.

"Who are you? Why's there a man in my bed? Gus?" Lydia stammers sleepily. "T… Todd?"

"No. Ew. Not Todd," Jesse replies with equal discomfort. "I hate him so much. I wanna kick his ass. I swear, it's just me. Just Jesse."

Lydia relaxes. "Oh. All right, then. Jesse. Um, I was just having a nightmare, I guess. Not related to you. Just childhood… stuff."

"Trauma shit?"

"Yes. Trauma shit."

Jesse smiles. "You should try swearing more often. It'll make you feel better, maybe. Doesn't matter if it's unprofessional, or whatever. I swore on the job with Walter all the time."

"I don't want to be impolite," Lydia, the woman who worked over and then betrayed a gang of literal Nazis, says. "It's not fair for me to take that attitude in my line of work."

"Just try it, Lydia. Say it. Say fuck."

"I'm not going to say fuck," Lydia retorts before going mute for a moment. "Oh. Well, yeah. I… yep. I said it now."

"Felt good, right? It's like breaking a bottle without all the glass pieces. Cathartic, and all that. Try another swear word. It'll take your mind off them."

"I swear, Jesse. You've heard me say asshole at least one time. And you know what? Todd's an asshole. His name sounds like asshole, too."

"Todd Assquist," Jesse mulls intelligently. "Todd Asshole. Yeah, that's his name now."

"Um… Jesse?"

"Yeah, Lydia?"

"How's this sound: Turd Alquist?"

Jesse snorts into the fluffy comforter, muffling his reaction. "Yeah! That's the spirit. Turd! 'Cause he's a stupid piece of shit. Dead-eyed loser. I wanna kill him."

"Yes, I believe we've made it abundantly clear that we both do. That's why we're here."

"You said it, Lyd. You need to sleep again?"

The nickname gives Lydia pause and Jesse worries briefly if she might get missed. Instead, she just says, "Is that a nickname? For me?"

Jesse rolls over to face her. She looks like she's nearly 3 feet away, or like a meter or some metric shit. "Yeah. I wrapped it up in tinfoil and mailed it all the way over to you on the other side of the bed."

"You… you can't wrap an intangible thing up, can you?"

"Nah, Lyd. It's a joke. Bet you didn't get many jokes in, uh, Prague? Which part of Texas was that?"

Lydia clears her throat. "Jesse, Prague is in the Czech Republic. It's the Capital City. I live in Houston."

Jesse just laughs, groaning. "Man, I don't know geography that well. I thought they spoke Mexican in Mexico when I was younger and I grew up surrounded by Latine culture. In New Mexico. I'm pretty sure I took Spanish in junior high."

Lydia rolls a little closer to him. "I like it when you don't know what you're talking about. It makes me feel better about my own constant nervousness. Is that rude?"

"I don't even care if it is rude at this point, yo. I've done meth. I snorted someone else's legal amphetamine salts off a highschool sink one time. I don't know what rude means."

Lydia hums thoughtfully. "Hmm. What does methamphetamine… what does it taste like? How does one, I don't know… how do you ingest one crystallized meth rock?"

That statement gets a guffaw out of Jesse. "There's a lot of routes of administration, honestly. You shouldn't try meth. It'll make anxiety and panic attacks worse. Legal amphetamines are way safer, if you take, like, 5mg orally. From a doctor who you didn't lie to. But most tweakers don't get healthcare access, or get a bad prescription because of quack doctors."

"Really?" Lydia murmurs. "I never considered that perspective. You're very intelligent, Jesse. I wish we could have been childhood friends at the same time."

"You're not that old," Jesse comments, "and amphetamine tastes gross, by the way. The shit I made before Walter smelled like cat piss and chili powder, but the blue sky… Mwah. It's like cotton candy, but with poison. Smells clean."

"Can I… can I try some, sometime? Not as a drug, just to taste it. I like clean things, which is probably overly apparent." Lydia is picking on her fingers incessantly.

"I think you already act enough like a tweaker," Jesse says. "I don't know. I can't stop you from taking amphetamine. It's all drugs, yo. Some drugs are good and some are bad. It's like chemo drugs. There are so goddamn many for so many different things."

Lydia looks to Jesse with big eyes. "Did you say you lost someone to cancer? Other than… you know who."

"Walter's probably not dead, but yeah. It was my aunt Ginny. You lost your mom, right?"

"She abandoned me willingly at a group home. That's actually what this… nightmare was about."

"Fuck her," Jesse says.

"She was so nice to me before she did," Lydia almost sounds like she's pleading. "Young girls are so mean, Jesse. Not like my daughter, but the older girls at the home. They were needlessly cruel to me and stole what things I had left of my mother."

Jesse frowns, reaching over to tap Lydia's shaky hands, like a cat in the middle of the night tapping a sleepy person for attention. He avoids eye contact. "Fuck those kids in particular. Kids used to bully me for being too short and skinny and crying a lot, but look at me now. Look at you now."

Sniffling, Lydia shakes her head. "We're… we're worse now. I'm the worst. I can't even protect my own daughter from these beasts."

"No, don't do that. You're not Mr… uh, Walter Shite. You're better."

"Thank you, Jesse. You're too kind for your own good. You should be more selfish," Lydia tells him with a muffled sob.

"No, I shouldn't. Deep breaths, okay? Remember the breathing mechanism I showed you, yo. You got this."

"Thanks, um… Yo," Lydia parrots.

Jesse laughs at that. "Good night. I'm gonna go the fuck to sleep."

"Good fucking night, Jesse," Lydia says with a sleepy smile as she drifts off.

Once Lydia goes to sleep, Jesse notices a series of pens and paper strewn out on the bedside, with various artistic tools available for him. He takes the tools and begins to draw, or write, or... well, it's both, isn't it?

It's a drawing of him and Lydia where he appears realistically taller than she is, and it's of him saying, 'GODDAMN IT, Lydia."


	4. Kiira

"I… I don't know. This doesn't feel right, all of a sudden," Jesse says, looking down at the wrapped-up welts on his wrists. Wearing Gus' clothes seems like a weird, wrong thing to do. "The man is dead. Should I really try his clothes on?"

"He didn't die in these outfits," Lydia counters. "From what I know, if what Mike told me was correct, Gustavo thought highly of you, at least toward the end."

Jesse is quiet; he's sitting at the foot of the bed as Lydia goes into a closet that's large enough to step a few feet into. This must be her own private safe house; come to think of it, it's decorated about as ornately as her home, if not more minimalistic.

"Yo, uh, how close were you two?" The fact that she hadn't spoken about him much must say something, but Jesse's not really sure what. Either they weren't ever close or they were close enough that mentioning him had to hurt.

Lydia is audibly moving things around in the closet. "Pretty close. He was the best business associate I've had in my life. He ran everything carefully and in such a well thought out manner. On a personal level, though? Yes, we… we were close. He was my friend."

"Oh. Shit, I had no idea," Jesse replies softly. "What was he even like on a personal level? I went to his house before and it was so… I don't know, clean."

Lydia steps out of the closet with some clothing in her hands, a couple of neatly-hanged suits that Jesse recognizes as something that Gustavo has indeed worn. He feels his heart sink at the reality that he helped play a part in Gus' death. 

"He had a soft streak that many people never got to see. A playful side, even. He liked to, um, throw things away into the trash cans like he was tossing a ball into a goal, and was always satisfied when he hit his mark. He cooked a lot, made amazing dishes I could never replicate on my own." Lydia sets the suits down upon the bed. "He was nice, actually. He paid his employees well, and not just the ones in the operation. Gus also paid the employees at Los Pollos Hermanos above minimum wage."

"Damn," Jesse replies, frowning. "Wish I could'a gotten a job there as a teenager instead of dealing drugs. At least then I would've probably been safer, as totally ironic as that is."

"You probably wouldn't have needed to deal drugs. Not that you'd make anything close to what you mentioned making. Do you want to try the suit on?" Lydia gestures to the suit. "Not in front of me, of course. In the bathroom. Or I'll just look away."

"I think the bathroom works," Jesse replies, taking the suit into his hands. "I'll be back."

It takes some time for him to get the suit on. By the time he's finished, he's trying not to sweat from the Albuquerque heat. Even though he’s in a perfectly air-conditioned building.

\-------------

They meet up at Loyola's the next day. It's public, well-populated with bustling customers. Before making it here, Lydia showed Jesse the direction in which her guys are, the backup she'd mentioned. Seeing Todd shortly after makes Jesse feel ill. His knees all but buckle as soon as he sees him. He looks to Lydia for reassurance and she doesn't look much better, but she gives a subtle and reassuring nod.

"Miss Lydia," Todd greets her with a smile before uncomfortably looking at Jesse. "And Jesse." Without warning, he steps forward and envelops Lydia in a hug, of which she reacts stiffly.

Jesse wishes they weren't somewhere public. He wants to tear Todd's fucking throat to shreads.

"Where is Kiira?" 

"Oh, she's waiting outside in the car. Once we have a little brunch together, well send her on her way with you." He shifts his focus to Jesse. "Then you and me can get back to cooking together like before, right? Aw, man, I missed that."

"Yeah," Jesse says hollowly. Christ, he feels like he's going to pass out. "Totally." Even if he doesn't have chains on, he can feel his freedom vanishing in thin air. Something tells him this might not end how Lydia's planned.

"Well, take a seat, you two," Todd says, gesturing to a nearby booth. Lydia and Jesse sit beside each other, across from him. "Gotta get some nutrition. Get all healthy from the kickass food here. What are you having, Jesse?"

"Oh, it's fine, I'm not…" Jesse croaks out. "I'm not really that hungry."

"That's okay. I can order something for you if you don't know yet," Todd says as if he's the most benevolent person in the world. "What about you, Miss Lydia?"

"I'll be having a salad," she says coldly.

"Salad? That's a classic." Todd rifles through the menu, rubbing his nasty hands together. "I think I'll have a coffee with some good old hashbrowns. Gotta love all the things chefs do with potatoes. You ever think about how many different potato foods there are?" Even when he's not being terrifying, Todd is still freakishly boring. This conversation makes Jesse wish he didn't have ears.

"What's gonna happen when you take me back?" Jesse asks, electing not to participate in Todd's stupid off-topic rambling. "What are you gonna do to me then?"

"Well, write now, we're just having breakfast," Todd replies emptily. "You figure out what you wanna eat, Jesse?"

Lydia all but snaps at Todd, but she tries to keep herself quiet. "Jesse can order his own food, Todd. It's fine. Don't make this a thing."

Jesse looks to Lydia, surprised she's defending him now. It's a brief and subtle glance, and he turns back to the menu afterward. "I'll, uh, have the breakfast sandwich. Bacon, cheese, egg, sausage. R… right on, yo."

\---

Lydia doesn't touch her food or drink the whole time. Jesse notices this and very tentatively picks at his own food, lest there be something wrong about his order.

In the middle of 'eating', she randomly stomps on the top of Jesse's foot with her fancy Louboutin high heel. It's not hard enough to stab his foot, but his shitty old shoes he's been wearing since before he was captured don't do a very good job of protecting him. It's enough for him to cry out, louder than he wants, "Yo, what the hell?"

All eyes are on him, including Todd's. Lydia, quick as a hummingbird, can be seen out of the corner of Jesse's eye putting something in Todd's food.

Todd doesn't notice.

\---

Todd quietly leads Jesse and Lydia to the vehicle parked out near Loyola's. Immediately, he recognizes it as the one Andrea couldn't see him in. He feels as if he's going to puke; neither of the duo say anything as Todd guides them toward the back of the van.

The moment it opens, Jesse and Lydia are greeted with an empty space in the passenger row and Jack Welker in the driver's seat.

Lydia nearly screams when she doesn't see her daughter, but the breath hitches in her throat as Todd guides her to sit where Kenny once held Jesse down. Todd pushes Jesse into the left side behind Jack, again, and climbs into the passenger seat up front.

"Jesus," Jack murmurs snickering. "I mean, Jeeeeesus! Look at you two in your spiffy little suits. Lookin' like two little Girl Scout rats. Maybe Miss Lydia is more of a mouse, huh?"

"Jack…" Todd murmurs, but hearing his voice is like a trigger for Lydia. She immediately begins panicking.

"Where is she? You-- you said she'd be here! Where's my daughter, Jack?!" Lydia is already sobbing hysterically but goes dead silent when Jack aims a gun at her face.

"Toddy boy, you wanna gag her real quick? Maybe take your socks off. We might have to shut up the both of them."

"Oh, come on, Uncle Jack. I don't wanna ruin her pretty makeup," Todd says like a kid. He looks to Lydia, and then to Jesse. "The least I can do is use something a little nicer, like a gentleman. Like a clean dish rag."

Everyone stares at Todd. Even Jack near chokes on his burning-out cigarette hanging from his mouth. "What? You tryin' to be a gentleman? Todd, you could do so much better than these Mormon Recruiter lookin' rodents in their little suits. Lemme just stick some plastic bags over their heads and…"

"Hey, hey, hey," Jesse intercepts, whispering. "It's okay. We're gonna handle this calmly, okay?" He's not calm at all; he's compartmentalizing and will surely crumble within an hour or so. Right now, though, the adrenaline is hitting him like a second wind.

"I'm not going anywhere until I see Kiira," Lydia squeaks, and Jack cocks the gun.

"Easy, easy, Jack," Jesse whispers. "We're quiet. I'm quiet. Lemme take care of Lydia." He gently scoots over and covers her mouth very lightly with his hand. Her face is soft and he feels so bad touching her at all, but it's all he can think to placate the Nazis in the driver's seat.

Lydia looks to Jesse and makes a startled noise, but she's silent again. Slowly, she looks back to the gun pointed at now both of them. "Mm-hmm," she nods agreeingly.

Jesse takes a deep breath. "See, she doesn't need restraints. I don't either. You see some pedestrian walkin' by, and if they see us all tied up they're gonna freak. You'll have witnesses. Just leave us as we are, Jack. We'll behave."

Lydia nods again, repeatedly, and Jack relaxes his grip on the gun, clicking the safety back on. "Goddamn it. This is way more effort than what it's worth for me. You two short little bitches are lucky I love my nephew so much."

The two men in the front look away to check for pedestrians and Jesse leans over to whisper into her ear, "We have backup, don't forget."

Lydia once again nods and Jesse moves his hand away, apologetic. "Sorry. You have a very soft face," he awkwardly whispers as she begins to speak more calmly.

"I'll be quiet, I promise," Lydia says faintly, her voice cracking. "Where are we going, Jack?"

"You'll see when we get there," Jack tells her, disgruntled and clearly sick of Jesse and Lydia. Maybe he's even sick of Todd at the current moment, but he somehow cares about Todd too much to kill his nephew's favorite prisoners. The ride is tense and quiet the whole time.

\----

When Jesse arrives at the house, Jack’s clubhouse, or whatever the fuck it’s called (why would Nazis have a club house? Who the fuck are they, some kind of Mickey Mouse Motherfuckers?) and they unload Lydia and Jesse.

“This place looks so much nastier than I remember it,” Lydia comments. Jesse rolls his eyes.

“Cool, great, now you know how it feels to live in a fucking prison.” He starts walking forward but Jack Welker kicks his leg.

“Hey, dumbass, you’re still not properly restrained. You gonna give that to Daddy Jacky Wacky or are you just gonna let us fucking go inside to see Lydia’s stupid daughter?”

“Kiira isn’t stupid,” Lydia comments defensively, glaring at Jack. Jesse gives Jack the middle finger and Jack smacks Jesse’s hand.

“You assholes were gonna kill us when we got in here, right?” He looks to Todd, who’s evidently extremely sick. “What the fuck did you give him, moron?”

“Uh, me?” Jesse squints. “I don’t know. I think some shit called Lobelia Snart Shit or something.”

Lobelia glares at Jesse. “Fucker, you weren’t supposed to say anything to them.”

Jack glares at the two. “You fucking idiots! Fine, go get your stupid daughter, Lydia. The men in the grey cars told me she was getting poisoned, but look at my fucking Nephew.”

Todd’s heart is beating a little too slow, as He’s literally dying.

“Great, you stupid idiots. You fucking killed my nephew. Good job.”

Todd dies. He falls onto the ground and dies. Jack is disgusted in Lydia and Jesse about an equal amount. “What the fuck did you kill that dumbass for? He was just a kid like you two, you know. What were you in this for?” He cautions a glance at Lydia and Jesse, about an equal amount.

“We just kinda wanted to save her daughter, dumbass.” Jesse glares very pointedly at Jack. “You stupid piece of shit.”

Jack laughs, shrugs, and throws his hands in the air. “Sure, assholes! Sure. But if anyone asks, we’re gonna say we did this for money, okay? Don’t you let this shit leak out of here ever again, or I’ll find you two and slit both of your rat-ass throats. Got it?”

Jesse nods and shrugs his shoulders. “Sure, idiot. Sure. Let’s just get rid of stupid Todd’s stupid body and we’ll be done with all of this.”

Jack glares at both of them.

\---

“Can I have some more oolong tea?” Lydia asks as Jack and Jesse pick up Todd’s dead body for the first time.

“Lady, we just killed the only idiot that likes to get you tea in the first place,” Jack points to Lydia and accidentally drops Todd’s body again. Todd Alquist is, very much, indeed dead finally.

“Okay, fine,” Lydia says. “Fine. Ugh, so he’s dead. Now what?”

Jesse taps his chin thoughtfully. “Uh, I don’t know. This was you and me’s idea, isn’t it, Lydia? Todd is fucking dead. And, uh, he’s dead way sooner than we expected, so now what?”

Lydia laughs. “Uh, okay. Do you, um, polite Nazis have any trash compactors?”

Jack looks at Todd’s stupid dead body. “Ok, uh, he’s dead now. I mean, we got that rat cage we kept shoving Jesse into.”

“Great. Perfect,” Lydia replies. Jesse picks up Todd again and him and Jack throw him into the garbage thingy. “Great, I poisoned him with Lobelia. You know, wolfsbane or whatever the fuck you were calling it. It was poison. You win.”

“Well, if TODD is still alive, do you wanna put him in the hospital?” Jesse asks.

“No. He’s fucking dead already,” Jack replies. They toss Todd into the rat’s cage and then he’s fucking dead.”

“Okay, fine, idiot.” Jesse throws Todd’s body into the garbage compactor, which is simply the cage he’s been putting himself into. “Do whatever the fuck you need. He’s fucking dead now.”

Jesse laughs so hard, like he’s never laughed before. “Okay, we did it. We poisoned Todd. He’s fucking dead now.”

“Okay,” Lydia says with a deep breath, staring down at Todd’s dead body. “Well, that was such a high dose of posion that he’s just fucking dead now, so I guess it worked pretty well.”

“Almost like it was a potion,” Jesse comments. God, he kinda misses smoking weed. “Hey, do you think once this is all over, we could try some CBD together? You know, in a really low dosage.”

“Get back on fucking track, idiot,” Jack says. “We just killed the guy we all kinda hated this whole time. What next?”

“Well, we could wait for the police to find Todd,” Lydia says. “Hmm. Perhaps Alaska is a good idea. Jesse, would you like to go to Alaska together?”

“Mommy!” Kiira screams, running out of Jack’s clubhouse and practically falling onto Lydia. She wraps her arms around her mother’s legs and Lydia laughs.

“Oh, hello, sweetie. Oh,” She begins to sob, hugging her daughter harder than ever before.

“Mommy,” Kiira sobs, holding Lydia closer than Jesse’s ever seen --- then again, he wishes he had seen them before, as they clearly love each other very much.

“I missed you idiots,” Jesse says, apropos of nothing.

“Okay, yeah, I missed you too, Jesse,” says Lydia. “You’re fucking right, okay? We’re friends now. But, um, jack is not our friend.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jack replies. “Do I need to be? I kinda hated Todd too. He was a fucking limiter for me.”

“I guess not,” Jesse says. “Okay, Jackass. Lydia and I are gonna get the fuck outta here with her daughter. Are we done here, idiot?” Jesse looks very pointedly at Jack Welker. Yes, you, Jack fucking Welker.

“Yeah, we’re done, so get the fuck outta here and never come back, idiots.”

Lydia smiles, laughing and hugging her daughter. “Yay, nice. We did it. We got Kiira back.”

“So, now that Todd’s dead…” Jesse looks at Lydia, raising his eyebrows.

“Let’s just get out of prison,” Lydia tells Jesse.

\---

The air in Alaska is fresh and crisp. “I can’t believe I never considered some place so… um, so clean,” Lydia tells Jesse with a shy smile.

“Yeah, it’s almost like I liked this place for a reason,” Jesse says. “Uh, but I can’t remember what it was. This place is nice, though. You wanna, just, like, end this shit here and find a house together?”

Lydia nods. “Yes. However, it will be as friends. I will not have sex with you, Jesse. I’d rather die than see your penis ever again.”

Jesse laughs. “You’ve never seen my dick, Lydia, and you never will.”

Something falls out of Jesse's pocket as he moves to hug Lydia.

"Um, what is this?" Lydia looks at the piece of paper.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I drew that for you," Jesse says with a laugh. It's that drawing he did.

Lydia laughs. "It looks like something my daughter might've drawn," she comments.

"I didn't draw that. I don't even know those big words," Kiira comments with a laugh.

https://imgur.com/a/71xnjhM

THE FUCKING END, YO.

**Author's Note:**

> oh, hi! thanks for reading this. i'm planning on finishing this fic in 2-3 chapters, at around 15-20k words. i might illustrate this more if there's enough interest to see more of my art! thanks for the read, and thanks to Sylvestris for helping beta-read this as i've worked on it!


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